In the Cemetery of Kuzhmir Poland

Behind a wall of livesEngraved in stones,Searching for the homesThey left behind,The Jews of Kuzhmir find,Instead, the fissure in my heart.

Listen to their song!Spun from breathless wind,Weaving through the treesIn waltz time and sunshine.It climbs the scales to heaven,Rising in crescendo to a smallStill point where all is silentA rest note held forever.

Birch and pine bough rustlingAmen to a Kaddish never said.A song without words, a nigunWithout Jews, except thoseWhose souls are in the trees.